


Fall of Sparrows

by Mijan



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mijan/pseuds/Mijan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The unwanted refugees of the Darvinian Civil War call for help and the Enterprise responds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall of Sparrows

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the "Strange New Worlds" fanfiction contest. It was not selected as a winner, but I still want to share the story with the world. 
> 
> I always felt that Star Trek was at its best when it addressed serious issues of human society by placing those issues under an objective lens. In that tradition, I present "Fall of Sparrows."

  


“ **Fall of Sparrows”**

  


_Captain's Log, Stardate 2269.53: The Darvinian Civil War has reached crisis levels, and the system's seventh planet has sent an emergency distress signal, requesting evacuation. They are not members of the Federation, and only have rudimentary warp capability. Starfleet has ordered us to provide aid and assistance in resettling the citizens of Darvin VII, but we are not to interfere in their military operations. The Enterprise has taken on seventy-three Darvinians who require medical aid, and is escorting a freighter carrying over six thousand for possible resettlement on Volus III. It will take six days to get to Volus at the maximum speed of the Darvinian passenger ship, and we hope the Volese council will be ready to extend an official welcome when we arrive. After Volus, closest planet that could sustain these refugees–the Caitian homeworld–would be almost five weeks at the freighter's maximum speed._

  
A chime sounded over the comm system, and Jim glanced at Uhura.

“Incoming message from the freighter, captain. Routine priority.”

Jim nodded in reply but continued speaking into the console. “Starfleet is sending more ships, and has asked other members of the Federation to lend aid. For these people, help can't arrive soon enough. End log.” He filed away the log entry with a tap of the console screen, then acknowledged Uhura. “Okay, Lieutenant, put it through.”

“Aye, sir.”

Scotty's face filled the viewscreen, and Jim was amused that it was smeared with honest to goodness grease. “Mr. Scott, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself.”

At that, Scotty actually smiled. “ _It's a bit like tinkerin' with antiques, captain._ ”

"Can you keep the antiques running?”

The engineer's face instantly became serious. “ _Well, the engines are fine, but it's the life support systems that have me worried. This ship is packed to the brim, and the water recycling and air scrubbers were never meant to handle this passenger load. For now, it'll hold, but the upgrades it really needs would mean takin' the whole thing offline, and we can't do that._ ”

“No,” Jim agreed, “we can't. So how long will their system hold up?”

“ _A week? A month? A couple of hours? I cannae tell yeh for sure, captain. Any chance of interceptin' a ship that can take on some of these fine folks?”_

Jim shook his head, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Every single ship capable of carrying personnel has been ordered directly to Darvin VII to pick up refugees.”

“ _Aye. Fill every life boat._ ”

“Even the leaking ones.” Jim clenched his fist, then slapped the console. “Is there any way to boost the system without shutting it down?”

Scott looked thoughtful. “ _If we had compatible auxiliary units, I could retrofit the relays to piggyback with them. We'd need units that work with a protophase conduit system, and nothing aboard the Enterprise would do... but older Vulcan technology might work. Captain, could yeh–”_

“I'll send out a request to some of our friends in the sector. Keep us posted, Scotty.”

“ _Aye. Thank you, sir. Scott out.”_

Jim stared at the viewscreen for a long moment after Scotty's face was replaced with the familiar starfield at warp. Low warp. Slow warp. Not-fast-enough warp.

“Captain.” Spock's placid greeting was a sturdy rock after the chaos of the last twenty-seven hours.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?”

“I have requests from seven different departments for increased security while the Darvinians are aboard.”

“We're already at increased security levels.”

“Indeed, captain. But most of our increased security is focused on external threats. The requests are for increased internal security.” Spock held out a PADD, which Jim took automatically.

“Did any of them say why they wanted increased security?” Jim asked, not bothering to read the PADD.

“They all reference the Darvinian history of violence and subterfuge.”

Jim was quite certain there was a tension headache buried in all this, waiting to strike. “The Darvinians in sickbay are ill or injured.”

“I am aware of that, captain.”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “Of course. Well, you can let them know the only department that needs any more help is medical, and they–”

“ _Doctor McCoy to Captain Kirk.”_

“I spoke too soon,” Jim mumbled to himself. He took a deep breath and tapped the comm switch. “Yes, doctor?”

“ _Captain, has the Vulcan given you my request yet? We're having some issues down here.”_

Jim shot a sideways glance at Spock, who offered a slight shrug and raised eyebrow. “Bones, I don't think your patients are a security risk.”

“ _That's not the... oh for the love of... Jim, can you meet with me down here?”_

That wasn't the sort of request Bones would make without a good reason. “I'll be there shortly. Kirk out.” He lurched out of his chair, noting and dismissing the twinge in his neck. “Spock, you have the bridge.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“And tell the other departments their requests are denied.” The doors to the turbolift hissed shut before Spock could reply. “Deck seven.”

A moment later, the turbolift doors opened but Jim stopped cold before he'd put a foot on the deck. Two young operations officers he remembered as recent additions to the engineering department were both holding phaser rifles.

“Captain!” The female, wearing Lieutenant Junior Grade stripes, greeted him.

“Hi, Lieutenant....”

“Chen, sir. And Ensign Reynolds,” she said, indicating the man on her left.

Jim nodded in greeting, but didn't hold back the frown that was threatening to turn into a scowl. “Why are you armed with phaser rifles?” He stepped out of the turbolift, letting the doors close behind him.

Lieutenant Chen's mouth widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered. “Our section leader, Lieutenant Ross, was concerned about security, so he told us to maintain personal arms, sir.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “He did, did he? And did he specify phaser rifles?”

“No, sir,” Ensign Reynolds chimed in. “But he seemed really worried, so we figured it would make a stronger statement.

“You... figured. I see.” He studied both of their faces for a moment. “And tell me, did you figure you would need these against a small group of refugees who are injured and sick, and who are just grateful to have gotten out of a war zone?”

“I... we had....” Chen stammered and fell silent.

“Lieutenant, Ensign,” Jim said carefully, measuring his words, “the elevated alert level on this ship is due to the possibility of Darvinian combat vessels following us and attacking the freighter under our care. I've authorized two security personnel to be stationed in each of our ship's most sensitive areas.”

“Yes, sir, but we–” Reynolds spoke up, but Jim cut him off.

“I did _not_ authorize the general carrying of arms aboard this vessel, Ensign. I certainly didn't authorize phaser rifles.” Jim noted that both young officers were starting to look a bit pale. Besides, if their supervisor had told them to arm themselves, he was the person Jim needed to lecture. He took a half step back. “Go return those to the locker, then tell Lieutenant Ross I said the decision to take arms is not his to make. I'll check in later, but I don't want to see another one of these–” He reached out and tapped the barrel of the rifle in Chen's hands. “–anywhere on my ship except in a weapons locker until further notice.”

“Aye sir,” they both replied in unison.

“Good. Now, dismissed.”

When the officers had disappeared down the hall, Jim let his shoulders droop as he exhaled a long breath. People were on edge, but the last thing he needed was to drag the Darvinians' war aboard his own ship. They had enough problems... which led him to the medical bay.

Jim could hear the cacophony of an overcrowded room before he even rounded the hallway to the medical bay door. He gave a sharp nod to the two security crewmen flanking the door as he walked through into a scene of absolute chaos. Darvinians of all ages and states of injury, lavender skin marred with deep purple bruising and smeared with blue blood, filled every bed and chair. Others were seated on the floor with their backs to the wall. Children crying. Adults staring blankly in shock or moaning in pain. Bodies and spirits alike, chewed up, spit out, and thrown aside–the inevitable byproduct of war. The medical bay wasn't designed to handle this many people. Jim guessed the secondary sickbay was in a similar state.

A nurse Jim didn't know well bumped into him as she moved past, barely acknowledging him as she hurried to her next patient. Jim didn't blame her. This was the domain of doctors and nurses, not command officers.

“Jim!”

Jim startled and looked back over his shoulder to see McCoy waving at him from the door of his research lab. He picked his way through the room and gratefully let the doctor usher him through the lab and into the relative seclusion of the chief surgeon's office.

“I called 'captain' three times before I yelled your name, you know,” Bones said as he eased into his chair with a grunt. “Looked like you were in a different sector.”

“I almost wish I was.” Jim slumped into his usual seat.

“Tell me about it. And seriously Jim, when was the last time you slept?”

“I'll answer that when you answer the same question.”

Bones scowled at him. “Well, if you want an unsolicited medical opinion, you look like shit.”

Jim snorted. “Flattery will get you nowhere. And speaking of which... are you going to ask me for more security because of the _dangerous_ refugees?”

“Well, I was going to ask for more security–”

“They're not a threat to us.”

Bones gave a skeptical frown. “I don't know about that either way, but I wasn't asking because I thought they were a threat. I'm asking because I think it might... well... ease some of the tension with the crew.”

A hot flash of anger shot through Jim's chest, and he sat up straight, suddenly far more awake. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened, but I was–”

“ _Bones._ ”

McCoy grumbled under his breath, then set his jaw and looked squarely at Jim. “One of our weapons techs came in with a shoulder strain. While I was treating it, he asked to be treated away from the Darvinians. I told him that was impossible and asked him why. He said he heard they were violent.”

“Who was it?”

Bones picked up a PADD and handed it to Jim. “Crewman Vargas. I wrote a report for you. Told Vargas that nobody messes with my patients, no matter what planet they're from. But Jim, it isn't just Vargas. I heard a lot of talk down in the mess hall, too. Our crew is nervous.”

Jim dug his fingers into the arm of his chair. “Our mission is to help these people, and I expect our crew to treat them with the utmost dignity.”

“I know you do,” Bones said, holding up his hands in mock surrender before folding his arms on his desk. “We all want to help. But the Darvinians have a history, and our crew knows it. While I don't believe any of our patients would cause a problem... well... I'm not opposed to a bit of caution. They're not members of the Federation. They've had run-ins with the Volese, the Andorians, and the colonists of Midos V. And you know the tactics that the folks from Darvin VII have used.”

“I do,” Jim said coldly. “I know Darvin VII was originally a mining colony with a lot of workers who had started as petty criminals, and it had a reputation for ugly behavior going back decades. I know they started the rebellion by blowing up a civilian space station. I know that fighters and sleeper cells have been embedded in civilian populations.” He felt the sick sensation of bile rising in his throat. “I know they used child soldiers.”

“So you can understand why–”

“I understand,” Jim interrupted, leaning forward. “I understand the Republic instigated this by draining resources from Darvin VII without compensating the citizens. I understand that a few individual protesters blew up an uninhabited factory, so the Republic stripped them of their voting rights and installed a military leadership, and that's what started the rebellion. Darvin VII is too cold for agriculture, and the Republic cut off their supplies. I understand that they've lost almost everything now, and are desperate to survive. I understand their children were hungry. And...” He swallowed against nausea and bile and bitter fury. “And I understand what it's like to be desperate and hungry.”

McCoy's face screwed up in confusion before his eyes went wide. “Jesus, Jim, I didn't even think of that.”

“You know some of the hometowns of Tarsus IV survivors on Earth didn't want to accept us back? They said the survivors might have been complicit, or even in collaboration with the genocide.”

“Yeah. I heard about that.” McCoy's voice was low and rough.

“Did you read the news articles that suggested even the innocent survivors were too damaged to be allowed back into mainstream society? One article suggested we might turn to cannibalism.”

“Good grief, Jim, a few people looking for sensationalism might have said that, but nobody believed it. Besides, the scope and situation on Tarsus IV was completely different from what's happening in the Darvinian system.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” McCoy said firmly. “There were a few thousand people needing evacuation, not hundreds of thousands. It wasn't an interplanetary war. There weren't groups of genocidal maniacs hiding with the evacuees. Once the rescue ships came to Tarsus, it was over.”

Jim stood up. “Bones... it was never really over.”

McCoy stared at him, mouth open.

“My file is still flagged. We all are. Some of us never overcame it. And I can only imagine it will be worse for the people of Darvin VII.”

“Jim....”

“I'll restrict access to this part of deck seven. No crew in this section unless they're on official business, and no Darvinians out of sickbay without an escort. Now, I've got to go have a chat with Lieutenant Ross in Engineering and then send out shipwide orders to stop people from walking the decks with phaser rifles.”

“ _Phaser rifles?_ Good God, what's wrong with people?”

“We've been asking that question for centuries. Only now, we tell ourselves we're better than that.” Jim shook his head. “Let me know if you have any further problems.”

“I will. Jim... I'm sorry.”

Jim grimaced. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Oh, and you get some sleep. Doctor's orders.”

“You too, Bones. Captain's orders.”

Bones tossed him a mock salute.

The door to the Chief Surgeon's office slid shut behind Jim, and he flinched at the onslaught of noise from main sickbay. He picked his way through the room, looking over the state of the patients and nodding encouragement to the medical staff, when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned and saw a waifish Darvinian girl looking up at him with fearful blue eyes. Her left arm was bound in an immobilizer. Jim crouched down so he wasn't looming over her. “Hi there. What's wrong?”

“Do you know where my father is?”

Jim reached out to touch her good arm, but he withdrew quickly when she flinched. “I'm sorry, I don't know where he is. Do you know if he came on this ship with you? Or is he back on the freighter?”

“I don't know. I haven't seen him since he told me to go with Taydon's family. He went back to the housing block to look for my mother.” The girl started shivering. “He said he'd meet me on the rescue ship.”

“What's his name?”

“Bram. Bram Sowen. I'm Sashi.”

Jim gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster. He'd add the name to the list of the missing. “Hi Sashi, I'm Jim. We'll look for your family. But right now, we're going to take the best care of you we can. Do you need anything else?”

“I'm hungry.”

Jim knew he shouldn't get involved. There were a hundred other things he needed to do right now. There were nurses and medics who could get a meal for the child–Sashi–and help her locate her family. But right now, she was looking right at him, and he couldn't walk away. “Come on, let's get you something to eat.” He held out his hand and tried not think about how frail her hand felt in his.

  


*************

  


The door to Conference Room One slid open and Jim stood alongside Spock to greet the appointed leader of this group of refugees. “Representative Kayun, welcome aboard. I'm Captain James Kirk, and this is my First Officer, Commander Spock.”

Lindra Kayun, a tall woman with a heavy blue tinge to her lavender skin and a careworn smile, held out both of her hands, palms up. “Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, thank you for meeting with me.”

“Of course. Please, make yourself comfortable,” Jim said, indicating a seat at the conference table. “Can we offer you refreshments?”

She bowed her head as she sat, but answered, “Thank you, no. A leader must always eat with the people she leads.”

“A practical custom,” Spock observed. “It would engender a sense that the leader is not taking privileges above those she leads. Effective for improving morale.”

“Very astute, Commander. My people have had enough of being second class citizens,” Kayun replied, a sharp edge needling her smooth voice. Then she bobbed her head in a brief bow. “Your crew has been the first experience of kindness we've had for a long time. And my thanks to the Vulcans for their generous donation. The water and air processors we received yesterday have stabilized our life support systems for now.”

Jim smiled at the bit of good news. “Mr. Scott tells me we should be able to make it to the Volus III without any more system failures.”

“He said as much to our freighter's captain. My compliments and gratitude to your engineers. Our people were doing their best, but Commander Scott's help is the reason our life support systems are still running.”

Jim tipped his head. “Scotty does like a challenge.”

“There have been more than enough challenges to share.” Kayun's mild demeanor chilled. “I recognize that your people have been stretched thin, but I wish to request additional security assistance aboard the freighter.”

Jim looked at Spock, who glanced back and raised an eyebrow before replying for both of them. “Given your situation of short supplies and limited space, stress leading to antisocial behavior is not unexpected.”

Kayun actually gave a dry chuckle. “No, commander. While that hasn't been easy, my people are proudly resilient against such things. We've never had much in the way of luxury. No, I ask for aid because we're receiving threats aboard the ship.”

Jim leaned forward. “What sort of threats?”

“Anonymous threats to damage the life support systems and poison the food supplies if we don't return home.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I am aware that some people outside our system fear us because they believe saboteurs and combatants will hide among the civilians. It pains me to admit their fears may not be unfounded. We suspect that we might have some Republic loyalists aboard.”

“It would be highly illogical for a saboteur to damage life support or food supplies, as that would lead to that person's own death as well.”

At that, Kayun actually laughed. “Logic? There's no logic in war, commander. But you know where there's even less logic?”

Spock tilted his head, inviting her to continue.

“In oppression,” she said with a nod. “Yes, my people did some ugly things, but that's because we were desperate. We didn't have the resources and power to stand up to the Republic any other way, so we used underhanded tactics. Then the Republic military turned those tactics back on us.” She looked back at Jim, and this time, there was a strain of desperation around her eyes. “I know how bad this looks. It doesn't help our case. But the Republic was getting desperate enough to punish us that... well... they might have embedded people. That's why I'm asking for your help.”

“Perhaps,” Jim said slowly, “we can help train your people to improve security aboard the freighter. It might be better than having us coming in to police them as an outside force.”

Kayun locked her gaze with Jim's. “If that would have been adequate, that's what I would have requested.”

Jim bit the inside of his lower lip. Security had been keeping extra hours, but they had probably recovered enough from the rescue operations on Darvin VII to take on a heavier workload again. “Spock, if we go to twelve hour shift rotations for security, how many can we spare for the freighter while maintaining current duty staff levels?”

“Twenty-three, captain, including four officers and nineteen crewmen.”

Jim's gut told him that inserting his own armed personnel into a ship of refugees was sending the wrong message, but Kayun was asking for help. Besides, if an embedded saboteur attacked the Darvinian refugees from within their own ship, the escort from the _Enterprise_ would be useless.

“Okay,” Jim finally said. “We'll send ten immediately, and the rest at the next shift change.”

The relief on Kayun's face was palpable. “Thank you, Captain Kirk.”

“You're welcome. Now, while you're here, I assume you'd like to see your people who are still recovering in our medical facility.” Jim stood, followed quickly by Spock and Kayun.

“I would very much, yes.” She smiled as she stood. “Especially the children. So many families have been separated by the conflict.”

“Of course. After you, Representative.”

The door of the conference room slid open and Jim started to follow Kayun through, but she stopped short with a gasp. Jim instinctively stepped around her and pushed her back, only to find nobody there. Instead, a message in a language Jim didn't recognize had been scrawled on the corridor wall across from the conference room.

“I assume this is written in a Darvinian language,” Spock observed.

“It is,” Kayun confirmed as she sidestepped Jim.

Jim looked at her and noticed the slight tremble of her lip, “What does it say?”

“Very roughly translated, it says, 'You are unwanted.'”

  


*************

  


“Captain on the bridge.”

“Status report, Mr. Sulu.” Jim settled smoothly into the seat his pilot had just vacated.

“All systems normal,” Sulu recited as he took over the helm. “On course at warp one-point-two with an estimated thirty-seven hours until arrival at Volus III. Latest update from the freighter states all systems are still holding up.”

Jim tapped in his security code and pulled up the shift log on his personal display screen. “Any security incidents?”

“Nothing, captain. Although....” Sulu looked back over his shoulder at Jim. “We haven't been able to recover the security footage or internal sensor readouts for the hallway outside Conference Room One. Whoever did it knew how to erase their trail. We still don't know who wrote the threat to the Darvinian Representative.”

Jim clenched his jaw, then forced himself to relax it when he realized almost everyone on the bridge was looking at him. “Tell security to stay on it. Have them check internal sensors and recordings for nearby turbolifts. There has to be something. Uhura, have some of your people in communications assist them.”

“Aye, sir.”

Jim nodded. “We're going to get to the bottom of this. But for now, Representative Kayun has a detail assigned to her. We've boosted security aboard the freighter and increased our own internal security.”

Chekov spun his chair around to look back at Jim. “Keptin, maybe ve could send the people in sickbay back to the freighter if they are healthy enough to valk. That way, only the Darvinians who are wery sick would be here, and there is no threat left aboard the Enterprise.”

Jim often forgave the ridiculous things Ensign Chekov would say. The kid was a great tactical officer, he meant well, and he was very young. Today, however, Jim's sense of humor had run dry. “Mr. Chekov, if you want to see a threat, I suggest you go down to sickbay and tell Doctor McCoy what he should do with his patients.”

Suddenly looking very uncomfortable, Chekov cast his eyes around the bridge as if seeking support. “I did not mean... if ve are vorried about security aboard our own ship... maybe they–”

Sulu reached over and put a firm hand on Chekov's shoulder. “Now would probably be a good time to drop it.”

Chekov glanced back and forth between Sulu and Jim. “Yessir.”

“Chekov,” Jim asked, suddenly curious, “what's your opinion about the Darvinians?”

Now, the ensign looked authentically confused. “Keptin?”

“You heard me, Mr. Chekov. I want your opinion.” Jim knew he was toying with a very delicate line.

“I... I am not sure vhat I think,” Chekov began hesitantly. “But I know many people are not so comfortable vith them. There is much talking with the other junior officers. They are vorried the Darvinians vould not fit into Federation society, or that they vould bring the fighting vith them.”

Jim studied the Chekov's nervous expression. He really needed to know what the crew was thinking. At the same time, he couldn't let those thoughts go unchallenged or unchecked. “Well, the other junior officers, and anyone else with these concerns, needs to remember we didn't join Starfleet because we're afraid of unfamiliar civilizations. Besides, these people are our guests, and they've been through horrors most of us can't imagine. I expect our crew to show them the highest level of hospitality. I'm sure you can handle that, Mr. Chekov.”

Chekov's lips were pinched tightly as he appeared to consider his response. Finally, he spoke. “Russians have the greatest hospitality on earth, and after the last vorld var, ve took many refugees. Most of them... they made Russia even greater. But some... one of the later groups, from America or Argentina I think, fought us even as ve tried to help them. They brought the var vith them.”

“Algeria or Afghanistan?” Sulu asked flatly.

Chekov shrugged. “They're all the same. But ve learned ve could not help those who would hurt us. As great Russian philospher said, those who sacrifice security for freedom get neither.”

Jim leaned forward, resting his right elbow heavily on his knee. “I think you've got that quote backwards, Mr. Chekov, and it was Ben Franklin who said it.”

“Nyet, I know the quote. Benjamin Franklin, Russian hero.”

“Chekov,” Sulu cut in, his voice low. “My family is Japanese by heritage, and I was born in San Francisco. During the World War II, the American government put everybody who looked like me into prison camps, even children, because we might be dangerous.”

Chekov's mouth fell open. “But... but that vas a different time... different situation. Ve are not doing that now.”

“Are we?” Sulu asked.

Jim watched the exchange, noting the confusion on Chekov's face slowly bleeding into pained realization and finally acceptance. He was still young, but he had matured a lot. On top of that, Jim made careful mental note of the fact that Sulu was sympathetic to the plight of the Darvinians. Maybe Sulu could help sway opinions or instill some confidence and morale in the crew. Maybe–

“Captain.” Uhura's voice cut sharply through Jim's thoughts. “Incoming transmission from the freighter, emergency priority.”

Years of experience kept the jolt of nerves from showing on Jim's face. “Onscreen.”

“Captain.” Representative Kayun held out her hands in greeting, but if Jim could read her expression, she was upset. Maybe angry.

Jim stood and mirrored her gesture. “Representative, what's wrong?”

“There's good news and bad news, I'm afraid. We caught the party responsible for making the threats.”

“That sounds like the good news. We can have our security officers transfer him to the brig aboard the Enterprise, if you would like.”

“That would be best,” Kayun answered, bowing her head slightly. “Keeping him here would only heighten nerves aboard the freighter.”

Jim nodded. “And the bad news?”

Kayun clenched her fists to her chest. “We caught him after he released a toxic vapor in the main cargo hold... where we have most of our food supply.”

“Is the food is in sealed containers?”

“The containers are made of a hydrocarbon polymer,” Kayun explained. “The chemical he released was designed to penetrate the containers. The food is tainted.”

Jim wanted to punch something. All he could see was the nauseating miasma of rage, and all he could hear was the soft, broken voice of the Darvinian child saying _I'm hungry_. “How much food do you have left?”

“Only what was in storage by the kitchens. Four days worth at full rations. Six... maybe seven... if we all tighten our waist cinchers.” Then, to Jim's surprise, Kayun smiled. “But we'll arrive at Volus III tomorrow. Then, our supplies won't matter as much. Nobody was hurt in our saboteur's actions. It will be okay.”

Startled back to sanity by Kayun's calm response to an attack against her own people, Jim took a slow breath and then smiled in return. “You're right, of course. I admire your strength, Representative.”

“I admire your compassion, Captain.” She bowed again. “It seems to be a rare thing in this universe.”

Jim glanced down at Sulu's stoic expression, then at Chekov's gaping mouth, and finally back at the viewscreen. “Maybe not as rare as we feared. Tend to your people's needs. We'll make arrangements to take the saboteur into custody.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She held out her hands, and the viewscreen went dark.

“Keptin?”

“Yes, Mr. Chekov?”

The lines of tension on Chekov's face were a startling contrast to the innocent distress in his eyes. “Ve vill help them, yes?”

Jim reached down and clapped the ensign lightly on the shoulder. “We're trying, Chekov. That's all we can ever do.”

  


**************

  


“President Tov, I am Representative Kayun of Darvin VII.”

Kayun stood in front of Jim on the bridge of the Enterprise, facing the President and two members of the Volese Council on the viewscreen. The Volese were a startling visual contrast to the Darvinians, with thick, greenish-brown skin, almost scale-like in appearance. Where the Darvinians were tall and slight of build with pale lavender hair, the Volese were short, broad, and had a uniquely lumpy cranial ridge on a hairless head.

“Representative,” Tov replied in greeting. “I am gratified that you and your people were able to safely escape from the violence of your planetary system.”

“As am I, President.” She held out her hands in customary Darvinian greeting. “On behalf of my people, I wish to thank you for your generous offer of refuge in our time of need.”

Jim had no experience reading Volese facial expressions, but he was pretty sure the President suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Or dyspeptic.

“Ah, that. I do wish I could offer you better news, Representative, but our planetary polls closed an hour ago, and the votes have been tallied.” He coughed and shifted in his seat. “The Volese people have voted to reject your request for refuge on our planet.”

Jim felt his muscles clench. “Excuse me?” he cut in, stepping forward. “You put a life-or-death matter like this to a vote?”

“Of course,” Tov answered, as if anything else were preposterous. “We are a democracy, Captain Kirk. Our government is subject purely to the will of the people.”

“You can't overrule them?” Jim challenged angrily.

“An outrageous notion.” Tov looked scandalized. “I am a President of a democratic society, not a captain of a ship where my decision is law. The people of my planet have voted. Although they are not without sympathy for the plight of the innocent victims of the Darvinian war, our own society is peaceful, and our people are afraid to lose that peace. Even if there are no combatants or violent individuals amongst your constituents, our harboring any refugees could cause combatants from your Republic to attack our planet. I am sorry, Captain, Representative, but there is nothing more I can do.”

“Perhaps food... and supplies?” Kayun's voice definitely held a note of desperation. “If we are to continue to another planet... we are running out of food.”

Now, the President's distant demeanor broke into a note of sympathy. “I am sorry. Truly sorry, Representative. It was decided that if we were found to be aiding you, it could draw the Republic to bring war to our planet. We are too close to your home system to ignore the risk. You must understand... it is not my choice to make. The people have voted. I'm sorry.”

“I see,” Kayun said coldly. “And I hope, President Tov, if you are in desperate need someday, other people vote to help you.”

With that, she turned her back to the viewscreen, and Jim knew the conversation was over. He caught Uhura's eye and nodded, signaling for her to cut the transmission. The viewscreen went dark, and the bridge took on a heavy silence.

Jim glanced sideways at Kayun. From so close, he could see her shoulders trembling. She knew what this meant. They had barely had enough food to continue the journey before the loyalist poisoned the rations, but now, there would be no way for them to reach the Caitian homeworld without resupply. It was more than a month's journey, even if everything went right. And then, there was the risk that the water recyclers and aid scrubbers would fail, even with auxiliary units.

“Representative,” Jim said softly.

She steadied her shoulders and faced Jim. “What do we do next, Captain? We can't make it Caitia, can we? We're going to run out of food, and even then, the life support systems might not hold. I can't lead these people on a trip which ends with them suffocating or starving in the depths of space.”

“And you won't.” He looked back at Spock, who had been standing silently at his post the whole time, observing. “Mr. Spock... we had an firm offer of refuge from the Caitians, but we had only been considering primary Federation planets. What about colonies? Are there any colonies closer than Caitia?”

“Midos V, Captain. At the freighter's maximum speed, it is thirteen days, twelve hours, and forty-three minutes travel from our current location.” He tilted his head and gave a barely perceptible frown. “Our route would take us back within three days travel of the Darvinian system.”

Jim nodded. “It's the best we've got.”

“But Captain,” Kayun interjected, “what about food?”

“We'll call for resupply. I can have a cargo ship meet us with food. And for now, we can transfer what extra we have aboard the Enterprise until we get a chance to resupply ourselves. That should last you another two weeks.” He forced a smile. “Rations aren't particularly tasty, but they'll do in a pinch.”

To Jim's relief, Kayun smiled back. “So, Midos V? Isn't that a human colony? I've heard of it, but... well, I never had much opportunity to travel outside of the Darvinian system.”

“Yes, it's a human colony, but a small one. They don't have a lot of resources, which is why it wouldn't be the best choice, but it should be a safe place to set down until we can come up with a better plan. We can get supply ships to bring resources to Midos V, and it might be a good place for other refugees until we can find a more permanent home.”

“An excellent plan, Captain Kirk. I will return to the freighter and explain the situation.” She held out her hands. “Thank you.”

Jim returned the gesture. “I just wish we could do more.” He watched silently as she disappeared with her security escort into the turbolift.

“How could they do this to these people?” Chekov asked in a raw tone to nobody in particular.

“Never underestimate the power of fearful people in large numbers, Mr. Chekov,” Jim answered flatly. “Mr. Spock, you have the bridge. I need to go take care of something.”

“Aye Captain.”

  


*************

  


“Mr. Jim, you came back!” Sashi bounced up off the floor and ran to him, almost plowing over a nurse in the process. She grabbed his hand without hesitating–a huge change from how she had flinched the first time he'd reached out to her.

“Good to see you too, Sashi,” Jim said, crouching down to her level. “It looks like the doctors and nurses got your arm all fixed up.”

“It's much better. They took the brace off this morning.” Then she shrank back. “I thought I was going back to the freighter now, but... Mr. Jim, they said they couldn't find my father on the freighter. What if the Republic got him and mother?”

“Sashi, maybe your parents missed this freighter, but they could be on another ship. When we get to a safe planet, they could meet you there.”

Her eyes were too wide in her pale face. “You think so?”

Jim hated giving a child false comfort, but he wasn't going to rip hope away from her when she had nothing else. “It's possible. There were a lot of ships leaving the planet. It might just take some time to find everyone.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jim,” she said, and then suddenly threw her arms around his neck.

Feeling very awkward, and a bit like a fraud, Jim patted her back. “You're welcome.”

“Well, Jim, it looks like you made a friend.”

Jim turned his head to see McCoy grinning at him, and he gently pulled back from Sashi. “Just doing my part to extend a diplomatic hand.”

Sashi grabbed his arm again. “I like Mr. Jim. He showed me his favorite food from Earth.”

“And before you ask, Doctor McCoy, I checked the biocompatibility profile between the Darvinians and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before ordering it for her.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow at him. “I'm impressed. Looks like you can teach a captain new tricks.”

Sashi tugged on Jim's arm. “Mr. Jim, you're the captain?” Her eyes were wide again.

Jim turned and rested his hands on both of her shoulders. “Yes, I am.” She started to back away from him, but he gently held on to her. “But that's just my job now. Not too many years ago, I was a child like you, and I was escaping from a planet where something terrible had happened. A lot of people had died, and we were all very hungry. I was scared, and I thought nothing would ever be okay. It took a long time, but things became okay again.”

The girl started to reach up, hesitated, and finally extended a hand and touched Jim's cheek. “Humans are funny colors, but I think... maybe we're not very different at all.”

Jim smiled. “Maybe not.”

“Well, Sashi,” McCoy cut in, “I think you just might be smarter than the captain because you eat your vegetables and I can't get him to eat a piece of broccoli without threatening daily vitamin boosters.”

“Bones....”

But it was okay, because Sashi giggled. “I think the captain is smart.”

McCoy winked. “Yeah, he is. But now, it's time for hungry children to eat lunch.” He reached out and steered Sashi towards the nurse's station. “Go tell Nurse Chapel I said you can have extra dessert.”

Still giggling, Sashi hurried to the nurse's station.

Jim stood with a groan, feeling the age in his back and knees more than usual. “Not going to discharge her back to the freighter?”

McCoy folded his arms across his chest. “Not until I have to, considering what happened to the food supply over there. She's underweight, so I'm keeping her here as long as possible to get some good nutrients into her. They haven't been able to find her family. Besides, the nurses love her.”

“Well, thank you for taking care of her.”

“Just doing my job.”

Jim shook his head. “Your job was to fix her arm. I'm talking about the rest of it.”

Bones shot Jim a glare of annoyance. “If my only job was fixin' bodies, I'd be a damned mechanic. I'm a doctor because I heal people.” He sighed and looked across the medical bay, which was still overcrowded but far less chaotic than it had been six days ago. “Sometimes, I can't do enough.” Shaking his head, he walked away.

Jim watched as McCoy went to a patient at the far end of the medical bay and began studying the biobed readout. At least the doctor could do something for these people. At the moment, Jim was feeling useless. He'd led them across light-years only to have them turned away at the doorstep of the Volese. Now, he couldn't even reassure a child that he could find her parents.

“Captain.”

Jim turned towards the weak and unfamiliar voice and saw an elderly-looking Darvinian man lying on a biobed. “Yes, Mister....”

“Rodel, captain. Just Rodel.” He coughed, then grimaced. “Sorry, still a bit sore. That's what happens when half a building falls on you, I suppose.”

Jim walked over to the man's bed. “I'm glad you got out. How are you feeling?”

“Your doctors are excellent. I suspect that without them, I would not be speaking to you now.” He glanced to the side – towards the nurse's station – and his expression became somber. “I overheard you talking to Sashi. I know I should have said something sooner, but... I didn't want to break the poor child's hope.”

Jim leaned in closer, feeling the nerves which always preceded bad news. “Tell me.”

“There's a chance, of course... but I saw Sashi's father, Bram, in the housing block. He pulled me out after the first explosion damaged the building.” Rodel closed his eyes slowly, then opened them again, but now his gaze was distant. “Then he ran back in, shouting for his wife.”

“What happened?”

Rodel was quiet for a moment, but his eyes finally focused back on Jim's face. “That's when the rest of the building collapsed. He was a good man. Yes, a good man.”

Jim stood sharply upright, trying not to react as he glanced back over at the nurse's station. Sashi was sitting on a stool, eating a sandwich and swinging her feet back and forth. She noticed Jim looking and smiled at him.

Jim forced a smile back, hoping she couldn't tell it was fake, then looked back down at Rodel. “I can't fix everything, but I promise we'll get your people to a safe place.”

Rodel looked at him sadly, and then closed his eyes before speaking. “Don't promise things you're not sure you can deliver, Captain... but I thank you for trying. That's more than most people would do.”

“You're welcome,” Jim bit out. He took an awkward step backwards, then turned and hurried out of sickbay.

  


*************

  


“Meet me in the transporter room. Kirk out,” Jim snapped over the intercom at the chief of security, who had also been dead asleep only minutes ago. He yanked on his boots and barreled out the doors of his quarters. The turbolift was blessedly empty. “Deck seven.”

The hot rush of blood in his ears drowned out the hiss of the turbolift doors, the thud of his boots on the deck plating, and the dull thrum of the impulse engines. _Impulse engines_. They were at impulse. They should be racing towards Midos V at warp, but instead, they were crawling along so they could transport engineering officer Lieutenant Ross back from the freighter.

Security was already waiting for him in the transporter room. Jim nodded sharply towards the transporter tech. “Energize.”

The silhouette of Lieutenant Ross, flanked by two security crewmen, appeared and solidified on the platform. Jim wanted to race up the steps and wipe the floors with Ross's face, but he was the captain. Instead, he waited as the handcuffed Lieutenant was frogmarched down to the steps and brought to a halt directly in front of him.

Ross was visibly pale and shaking, but showed no sign of apology in his eyes. “Captain.”

“What were you thinking, Lieutenant?”

“They can't go to Midos V, sir,” he said.

“They... can't go? That was their last chance!” Jim snarled. “The freighter wasn't going to hold up to get to Caitia, and their food supply had already been sabotaged. So tell me, Lieutenant Ross, why the _hell_ can't they go to Midos V?”

“My mother lives there. The Darvinians are violent, and they'll just bring the war there with them. They're not wanted.”

Sudden realization spurred another surge of anger, hot and thick. “You're the one who wrote the threat to Representative Kayun.”

Ross shut his mouth and stared at the wall over Jim's shoulder.

Jim nodded. “I see.” He looked back at his Chief of Security. “Take him to the brig. We'll deal with him after we handle this mess.”

After the security detail left the transporter room with their unlikely prisoner, Jim walked over to the comm panel and hit the switch. “Kirk to Scott.”

“ _Scott here, and it's bad, captain._ ”

“Tell me.”

“ _He destroyed the filter units in the auxiliary air scrubbers. Fried the conduits to a crisp. The ship's main units are online and holding, but... they won't hold out until we get to Midos V.”_

“Are you sure, Scotty? Can you repair the auxiliary units? Come on, give me some good news.”

“ _Captain, the good news is that we're still breathing over here. I cannae give yeh anything more. The units the Vulcans gave us are wrecked. There's nothin' to repair. This old ship was breakin' the odds just to get this far. I'm sorry._ ”

The harsh wake-up and the breakneck chaos of emotion was churning in Jim's gut. “How much longer can you give us on the equipment you have?”

“ _Three or four days. Five if we're luckier than we have any right to be. Wait... captain, we've got someone here who wants to talk to you.”_

“Go ahead.”

“ _Captain, this is Kayun.”_

“Representative,” Jim greeted the now-familiar voice. “I have no adequate apology for the actions of my crew member. We had no idea.”

“ _I do not blame you, captain. Just as we had no control over the Republic loyalist on our ship, you could not have known of the Lieutenant's plans. At the moment, it does not matter. I heard Engineer Scott's statement about the freighter's air processors. We need to set down within five days, and the only habitable planets close enough are in the Darvin system.”_

Jim blinked in surprise, then shook his head. “You can't go back there.” Even as he said it, he knew how ridiculous it sounded. The life support systems on the freighter wouldn't hold up. They could either die in space or go back to the Darvin system and hope to catch a ride out on the next relief ship.

“ _You know as well as I do that we have no choice.”_ Kayun sounded horribly tired.

“I know.” Jim hated admitting it. “But I'm not giving up yet. We'll send out a call for any transport ships that can intercept us.”

“ _We can certainly try,”_ Kayun acknowledged, but she didn't sound very confident. Jim didn't blame her. _“We will set course for the Darvin System now, and hope for the best.”_

“We're still going to escort you all the way in. Maybe we can protect you without interfering in the war itself. I'm not going to abandon you out here.”

There was an abbreviated, choked sound over the comm. _“Thank you, captain.”_

“Of course. Let me know if there's anything else I can do.”

“ _I will.”_

“Scotty, keep me posted about the freighter's status.”

“ _Aye, captain.”_

“Kirk out.”

Jim slapped the comm panel harder than he intended, and turned to leave the transporter room. He had to get to the bridge. He had to talk to Starfleet. He needed to write a report, contact the Vulcans, look for other ships to take the refugees, debrief the engineering team, talk to security–

“Captain?”

Jim looked back at the transporter tech so fast his neck spasmed. “Yes, crewman?”

“Are you okay, sir?”

Jim squared his shoulders. “We're all okay, crewman, but there are six thousand Darvinians on that freighter who aren't.” And then he left without another word.

  


**_*********_ **

  


“Doctor McCoy, what brings you to the bridge?”

McCoy stepped up to his favorite perch behind the captain's chair. His face was drawn and the circles under his eyes looked darker than ever. “What else am I supposed to do without any patients?” He snorted, then shook his head. “All the Darvinians are back aboard the freighter.”

“Including Sashi?”

McCoy nodded. “Rodel said he'd look after her. Jim, you know we couldn't keep her.”

“I know.” He shifted in his chair and looked back at the viewscreen. “But we should have been able to take on some of them, Bones. We might not have a lot of extra space, but we have _some_. Spock, how many additional passengers could we have taken, at maximum capacity?”

Spock looked up from his station. “Four-hundred and seventy-two, but the question is irrelevant. The ethics of the people of Darvin VII dictate that no lives are more important than others. It was their choice to stay together.”

“I don't much like it,” McCoy growled. “It seems like a lot of hard-headed thinking when they should have made an exception.”

Spock walked over to McCoy, hands neatly folded behind his back. “While I found this specific decision to be irrational, I believe I understand their reasoning. If they give preference to some, then all will ultimately suffer. Given their living situation on Darvin VII, the rules of their ethical code were incredibly logical.”

“You and your pointy logic,” McCoy muttered under his breath. “It's not very logical if they all die.”

Jim held up one hand to interrupt them. “Well, let's do our best to make sure they don't die. Sulu, estimated time to the edge of the Darvin system?”

“We'll drop out of warp in about five minutes, Captain. That will put us just outside the border of the system.”

“Good. We'll set course for Darvin VII and approach at full impulse. Transmit the flight plan to the freighter.”

“Aye, sir.”

Jim looked back and forth between Spock and McCoy. “And now, we wait.”

The bridge was silent aside from the beeps of machinery and the thrum of the warp engines until a sharp chirp cut the tension. “Lieutenant Uhura?”

“Captain, we're picking up a message from a beacon set by the Darvinian Republic. Audio only.”

“Let's hear it.”

“ _Attention all alien ships. The Darvin System is hereby restricted to travel only by native spacecraft. Violation of Republic space by alien ships, Starfleet or otherwise, will be considered a declaration war against the Republic. Do not interfere.”_

Jim swallowed thickly, then cleared his throat. “Is that it?”

Uhura nodded. “The same message repeats itself on a loop.”

“Keptin,” Chekov spoke up. “Sensors are picking up ships, Darvinian ships, along the edge of their space.”

Any hopes Jim had of escorting the ship back into the system smoothly were gone. Still, he wasn't ready to give up yet. “Steady as she goes. Sulu.”

“Ten seconds to arrival, captain.”

A few heartbeats later, the brilliant streaks of warped space resolved into the starfield at the edge of the Darvinian system. “Sensors, Mr. Chekov?”

“I am detecting ten... no... thirteen Darvinian fighters in this part of their border, Keptin.”

An alert chimed for the subspace comm system. “Captain,” Uhura called out, “we're being hailed.”

Jim had a pretty good idea of what he was about to hear. “On screen.”

The starfield on the screen was replaced by a Darvinian in what appeared to be a military uniform. No matter the species, Jim could always recognize military personnel. He stood. “I am Captain James Kirk of the Federation Starship _Enterprise._ We are here to escort the–”

“ _Starfleet captain,”_ the Darvinian interrupted him. “ _I am General Traben of the Darvinian Republic. Starfleet's interference with our people's internal affairs will cease. The freighter you are escorting may enter our borders, but your ship is banned from our system_.”

“General Traben, we are not interfering. We had only offered non-military assistance to those who had sent out a distress signal. We intend to escort this ship back to Darvin VII to ensure their safe passage–”

“ _The freighter may enter Republic space, but you may not, Captain. There are no exceptions. If you violate our space, we will be forced to fire on you. I trust I have been clear.”_

Jim felt the muscle in his cheek twitch. “Perfectly, General. Kirk out.” He glanced at Uhura, who cut the transmission, and then over at his First Officer. “Spock, I need suggestions.”

“Regretfully, Captain, we have few options. Our orders from Starfleet were explicit. We were not to interfere with military operations within Darvinian space.”

“And continuing our escort will violate those orders?” Jim intended the question rhetorically, but he knew he'd get an answer anyway.

“We would be breaking a military blockade. Despite our substantially superior battle capability, we would incite an interstellar incident if the _Enterprise_ were to cross into Darvinian space.”

“And if we did cross the border, what would we do? Fire on the Republic? No, give me another option,” Jim barked.

Chekov spoke up this time. “Ve could vait with freighter outside the Republic border for relief ships.”

“The nearest relief ship which could take them all is sixteen days, three hours, and twelve minutes way,” Spock replied. “Their life support system will fail long before that time. Smaller ships are still days away.”

“Perhaps diplomatic intervention?” Uhura suggested. “I know the Federation hadn't made a firm decision, but now, they have to send a team.”

Jim shook his head. “That would take weeks.”

McCoy took a step forward. “So we're just supposed to send the freighter back in there with no help? Spock, there's no telling what will happen to those people once they cross back into their space.”

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by another communique signal.

Jim looked back at Uhura. “Put it through, Lieutenant.”

This time, the familiar face of Representative Kayun appeared. “ _Captain Kirk, we have been informed by the Republic military that we may cross back into the system, but you can't.”_

“We received that message as well, Representative.” Jim braced himself. “You don't have to go back there. We can turn around and try to get a transport to intercept you.”

But Kayun only smiled sadly. “ _At last estimate, the closest ship which could take everyone is two weeks away. Engineer Scott told us that the Vulcans had already donated all compatible air scrubbers to other refugee ships in the same situation as us. Our air system is failing, Captain. We have, at most, one day before the air quality starts causing deaths amongst the passengers. The Republic may punish our leaders, but it is the best chance for our civilians. Besides, where else could we go now?”_ She held out her hands. _“Thank you, captain, for all you have done to help us.”_

Jim swallowed thickly. “It wasn't enough.”

“ _It was more than anyone else had done. I wish you peace, Captain.”_

The transmission cut out before Jim could say goodbye.

“There's got to be another option,” McCoy hissed. “Jim, you can't let them go back in there!”

Jim looked at the desperation and anger on the doctor's face, but he could only shake his head. “It's not up to me, Bones.”

“Captain,” Sulu said, “they've crossed the system border.”

Jim stared at the viewscreen as the freighter shrank to a tiny speck and disappeared from view as it moved into Darvinian space. He thought about the stale, choking air and wondered if Sashi was okay. He weighed the inevitable Courts Martial and possible interstellar war for crossing the border against the lives of the people on the freighter.

“ _Keptin!_ ” Chekov spun around in his seat. “The Republic fighters are moving towards the freighter!”

“Magnify the image.”

The freighter reappeared on the screen, but now, Jim could see three Republic fighters moving towards it. He knew an attack formation when he saw one.

“Hail the Republic,” Jim barked out. “General Traben, this is Captain Kirk. Order your ships to stand down from the freighter.”

Seconds passed, and Uhura looked up. “No response, Captain.”

“General Traben, the freighter is carrying innocent civilians. It has no weapons and life support is failing. You must–”

“ _This is not your concern, Starfleet. Do not interfere.”_

“Keptin,” Chekov said with an audible gasp. “They are powering veapons.”

Jim watched as the weapons banks of the fighters started to glow–old fashioned pulse lasers, if he remembered correctly–and suddenly released a barrage across the hull of the freighter.

McCoy grabbed Jim's shoulder. “Jim! We have to stop them!”

“We can't,” Jim replied without taking his eyes off the viewscreen. He could see air venting through breaches in the freighter's hull amid small explosions. Even if they went in now, it was too late for the freighter.

“They're going to die unless we go in there!”

Before Jim could reply, the freighter was swallowed by a fiery blast. It was gone.

Jim knew he should be feeling raging fury that rivaled the explosion he'd just witnessed, but instead, all he felt was cold. Very cold. Slowly, he sat down in his chair, not taking his eyes off the viewscreen. He stared long and hard at the space where, only seconds ago, over six thousand souls had been struggling for their lives.

“Captain?” Spock's calm voice echoed through the icy chill Jim felt surrounding him.

“Kayun was right, Spock.”

“To which particular point do you refer, captain?”

“That there's no logic in war.”

“There vere children on that ship,” Chekov said to nobody in particular, then he turned around and stared at Jim as though he'd lost his own soul. “Ve could not save them. Ve lost.”

Jim clenched his jaw at that horrible thought, then shook his head. “Chekov, scan Darvin VII for life signs.”

“Keptin?”

“Do it, ensign.”

Chekov spun around and his hands flew over the controls. “There are... about eighty-six thousand humanoids alive on Darwin VII. They are... ve could... ve could still save them.”

Through the clammy chill that had wrapped itself around him, Jim felt the spark of something hot and sharp. “Yes, we can.” He bowed his head for a moment, then looked up. “Lieutenant Uhura, send a message to Starfleet. Because of the acute threat to sentient life, we were forced to enter the Darvin system, and we are requesting diplomatic and strategic reinforcements.”

“Captain,” Spock said evenly, “we have explicit orders not to–”

Jim lurched to his feet and faced his first officer. “How many more of these people will die before we decide to act? Was six thousand enough? Should we wait until we lose our humanity, too? To hell with the orders, Mr. Spock.”

For a moment, nobody moved. Then Spock tilted his head, just slightly. “Clearly, this is the only rational course of action, captain.”

At that, Jim actually smiled. “Good. Sulu, lay in a course for Darvin VII, full impulse.”

“Course laid in, sir.”

Jim stepped forward and looked at the viewscreen where the Darvinian sun was shining harshly in the distance. “Take us in.”

 

*************


End file.
